


Can You Drive?

by ryancallaghan



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, VIXX, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Drug Dealing, Fast Cars, Fast and the Furious series - Freeform, Illegal Activities, Mild Language, Multi, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryancallaghan/pseuds/ryancallaghan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonsik just wants to make a perfect life for his sister - even if it means he has to go against the law to do it. [On Hold]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brother

Knocking back another shot, Wonsik slammed his glass on the bar counter and threw a couple ten’s with it before stalking out the door, his footsteps heavy. The cool night air caressed his face when he stepped outside and he stood for a moment, letting the crisp air soothe his lungs after sitting in the musky bar. He still never understood why people smoke inside; he prefered smoking outside - mostly so he didn’t choke anyone with his second-hand smoke but it was also because he liked being outside.

Being outside meant he was free - no constrictions of any kind. Just him and the earth, the road beneath his tires, the rumble of his motorcycle vibrating throughout his body. It was probably why he never stayed in one place for too long; felt too restricted, too much commitment. He sighed and looked around as he stepped onto the dirt, seeing the makeshift parking lot practically empty, his bike one of the few that were still there.

He took his phone out as he walked, noticing that he had two missed calls and five text messages, all from the same person - Heather. Wonsik groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face; he didn’t remember when he gave her his number or if he actually did give it to her - he never gave out his number for this particular reason. Some of his one-night stands are down right crazy and didn’t understand that he doesn’t want a relationship with them - one even tried to convince him that he was the father to her five year old son when he just met her.

Mounting his bike, he got settled before deleting the messages from Heather and removed the SD card. He slipped the card into his pants pocket and tossed the phone on the ground before stomping on it, the heel of his boot making a nice crack in the screen. He stomped on it again, this time throwing all of his weight into it and it smashed to pieces - he knew that if anyone found it, they wouldn’t be able to revive it. He shrugged and got situated on his bike again - he needed a new phone anyways.

Tugging his helmet on, he turned his bike on and headed south, continuing his trip to a friend’s place - he originally was going there for a job but now Wonsik had to ask him for a phone as well. His friend was used to handing out new phones to Wonsik - mostly because of his conquests getting a hold of his number but also because he kept getting into trouble whenever he was on a job. Getting into trouble meant he had to disappear - quite literally. Fake names, hair color changes, new wardrobe - anything to keep him out of prison. Hiding his tattoos was a whole nother story but he was getting better at using make-up to cover them.

Halfway to his friend’s place, Wonsik had to pull over onto the shoulder and take a leak - the drinks from earlier went right through him. He was just thankful his friend lived on a deserted highway, otherwise he’d have to hold it for the next fifteen miles and he knew his bladder couldn’t handle that. Zipping his pants back up as he walked back to his bike, he pulled out his pack of Marlboro’s, noting that he’d have to stop at a gas station soon and buy another, before he leaned against the seat and lit a cigarette.

Taking a long drag, he looked up at the sky and slowly blew out the smoke through his nose, the nicotine creating a slow burn in his lungs and throat. Being out in the middle of nowhere, the stars shone brighter than Wonsik has ever seen and he practically lived outside. Seeing the stars shine so brightly made him smile around his cigarette; astrology had always interested him and he studies it whenever he has time.

Finished off his cigarette, he stubbed it out on the bottom of his boot and flicked it off into the dirt before mounting his bike again. Taking a second to look at his watch, it was still the early morning and if he got going now, he’d make it to his friend’s in the next hour or two - depending on how fast he can push his bike. Getting himself situated on his bike, he let the engine warm up a bit before pushing off, hightailing it and sending dirt clouds everywhere.

He managed to reach his friend’s house before dawn and he could see the early morning fog settling in. Leaving his helmet on his seat, he pocketed his keys and went around to the back of the house. Wonsik smiled fondly, staring at the house with a nostalgic-look in his eyes; he had gotten into an accident a few years ago - his first job, ironically - and before he could bled to death, a kind stranger found him and took him back to a random, run-down house to fix him up. Wonsik noted that his friend didn’t do a thing to fix-up the house at all and he snorted, climbing the back porch steps.

Testing the door knob, he furrowed his eyebrows when it wouldn’t turn - his friend never locked the door, it always stuck so he never thought to lock it. Bracing himself, he threw all his weight into his shoulder and busted the door open, stumbling a bit to get his balance. Looking around the kitchen as he closed the door, Wonsik noticed there were female shoes and a purse laying on the floor leading into the main hallway.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he went to make a pot of coffee. His friend wasn’t one to bring a girl to this place - unless he was piss drunk and didn’t think to go to a hole-the-wall hotel. Wonsik just hoped he remembered to wear a condom this time - he didn’t want another breakdown from his friend, once was enough for fifty lifetimes. He leaned against the counter as he waited for the coffee-maker to beep and tapped his fingers against his arm out of habit.

After making his coffee, he went back outside and sat in one of the wooden rocking chairs his friend had out there. Setting his coffee down after gulping a mouthful, he took his cigarettes out again and lit one. Picking up his coffee mug again, he cradled it between his hands with his cigarette hanging from his lips. As the sun rose, he switched from the cigarette to the coffee every other minute.

Hearing footsteps inside the house, he checked his watch and rose an eyebrow when he saw it was already six o’clock. Even drunk off his ass, his friend still got up with the sun, something he could never do - he either stayed up to see the sun or slept until the sun went down, there was no in between for Wonsik and his sleep. He turned his head towards the door when it creaked open and smirked when he saw his friend step out, sex hair in all it’s glory with hickeys covering his chest and neck.

“Mornin’,” Wonsik greeted, holding his coffee mug up in a salute. Hakyeon just glared at him and sat in the other rocking chair next to him with his own coffee.

“What are you doing here, Wonsik?” Hakyeon asked, his voice still thick with sleep, making his Korean accent more pronounced, and it was laced with slight annoyance - most likely from the hangover he’s experiencing.

“You called me a couple days ago, said you had a job for me, so…here I am. Looks like you had fun last night, though,” He chuckled into his mug, draining the last of his now-cold coffee.

“Speaking of which, I tried calling you last night but your phone was no longer available. What, did you smash it again or what?” Hakyeon glared at him over his mug, practically chugging his coffee in hopes it’d help his headache go away faster. Wonsik rubbed the back of his neck and groaned a little.

“Yeah but it was intentional,” He grumbled, stubbing out his dead cigarette. Hakyeon snorted then groaned before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Lemme guess, another one of your conquests got a hold of your number and wanted to make a baby, yes?” He stared at Wonsik with a blank look and Wonsik knew that if Hakyeon wasn’t hungover, he’d be laughing at him. He sent Hakyeon a sheepish grin which quickly morphed to pain when Hakyeon smacked the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot,” He grumbled into his mug, tilting his head all the way back to drain the last of his coffee. Wonsik huffed and rubbed his head, praying this wouldn’t turn into a headache later.

“It’s not my fault they get their sneaky fingers on my number, how was I suppose to know that they’d root through my shit to get my number,” He tried defending himself but shut his mouth when Hakyeon gave him the look again. Wonsik sighed heavily and stood up, going back inside to get another cup of coffee and maybe rummage through Hakyeon’s fridge for food. He left the door open for Hakyeon - who had just stood up to follow Wonsik into the house.

“You’re gonna need to change your hair color again before you go,” Hakyeon said, coming up behind Wonsik and took the coffee pot from him. He let his hand hover in the air before letting it flop and went towards the fridge.

“Really? Why’s that? I just changed my hair color a couple months ago,” He asked, bending down to look on the bottom shelf, moving some things before resurfacing with some peanut butter.

“The people you’re going with like to stay below the radar, meaning no hair color that would attract attention,” Hakyeon pointed at his silver-white hair and he sighed, scooping some of the peanut butter out with his finger.

“So, what, I don’t suppose you have an extra box of hair dye laying around, do you? Because I’m fresh out of cash,” Wonsik stumbled, his tongue getting stuck in the peanut butter that was on the roof of his mouth. Hakyeon looked at him with slight disgust before tossing a loaf of bread at him.

“As a matter of fact, I do, you idiot. Finish eating and I’ll let you take your pick,” Wonsik nodded to him, snatching a banana off the table and went to work making his sandwich. After finishing his sandwich and two more cups of coffee, he followed Hakyeon down the hallway to the bathroom, passing his bedroom in the process and saw that the bed was unmade with the girl missing. Hakyeon saw him looking and smack upside the head again, glaring at him before continuing on towards the bathroom.

“Why do you always hit me?” Wonsik whined, rubbing his head again, for sure knowing that he’d have a headache later now. Hakyeon looked over his shoulder at him as he opened a cabnet and rolled his eyes.

“Because you’re an idiot, that’s why,” He grunted, pulling a giant basket off the shelf and set it on the counter, hair dye boxes practically overflowing the poor basket. Wonsik raised his eyebrow and scanned the boxes.

“Why do you have so many different hair dye boxes when you keep your hair the same tri-color it’s been for three years?” He asked, eyeing the red and silver streaks that Hakyeon had in his black hair. It would’ve looked weird on anyone else but he pulled it off, especially with the way he styled it. Wonsik was almost envious of his hair but decided he liked having one-toned hair better.

“For incidents like this, asshat, now pick one,” Hakyeon slid the basket over to him and jumped onto the counter, bouncing his knee as he waited. Wonsik sighed heavily before blindly shoving his hand into the basket, pulling out a random box and tossed it to him. Hakyeon fumbled with the box for a second before reading the hair color and laughed.

“This is the opposite of what we’re aiming for, pick again,” Hakyeon chuckled, tossing the box on the counter and Wonsik got a look at what he picked - bright orange. He grumbled and shoved his hand in the basket again, taking a bit longer to pick a random box and tossed it to Hakyeon again.

“Light brown, that’ll do. Get comfy,” He pointed to the bathtub and hopped down from the counter, opening a drawer to get some gloves and a towel. Wonsik blew some air through his lips and sat gently on the edge of the bathtub; he remembered the first time they had to dye his hair and he sat on this very bathtub, he had misjudged his landing, fell backwards into the tub and smacked his head on one of the shelfs.

Looking up at Hakyeon as he walked over with a stool, he gave him a pitiful look and whined a little.

“Oh calm down, after this job, you can go back to being an anime character,” Hakyeon chided, plopping down on the stool next to Wonsik and tore open the box, making the dye quickly. He draped the towel around Wonsik’s shoulders and quickly got to work on his hair. Wonsik just closed his eyes and waited patiently for him to be done.


	2. Bickering

Wonsik sighed, running his hand through his newly dyed brown hair. He hasn’t had brown hair in years, so it’ll take him a while to get used to it. Watching Hakyeon clean up the bathroom, he leaned against the counter and waited for Hakyeon to turn around. When he did, Wonsik shoved the hair dye basket into his hands and said, “Pick one,” before smirking at his shocked face.

“No, no, I will not pick a color, I like how my hair is,” Hakyeon protested, trying to step around Wonsik to put the basket back in the cabinet. However, Wonsik wasn’t having that and took Hakyeon by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes until he stopped talking. They stared at each other until Hakyeon sighed, his shoulders sinking in defeat and Wonsik grinned, letting him go before stepping back.

“I’m still not changing my hair color,” Hakyeon said hastily, dropping the basket on the floor, blotting out the door and down the stairs. Wonsik just stared at the place where Hakyeon once was, trying to process what just happened while slowly walking down the stairs, scratching his head. He found Hakyeon outside, opening up his garage and trekked over.

“Dude, you’ve had the same hair color for years, don’t you think it’s time for a change?” He asked, leaning up against one of the tool boxes. He watched as Hakyeon popped the hood to his Skyline and crossed his arms. Hakyeon looked up at him with a half-hearted glare before stalking over and flicked him on the forehead.

“Just because we’re not in Korea anymore, doesn’t mean you stop respect your elders and no, I don’t think it’s time for a change. I’ll change my hair color when I feel like it,” He chided Wonsik, knocking him upside the head again. Wonsik just whined and rubbed his head again - he was gonna get a migraine after today.

“I didn’t stop respecting my elders, brother, I just got accustomed to the American lifestyle. It was bound to happen, you know,” Wonsik scoffed, walking over to one of the couches that Hakyeon had in there. He heard Hakyeon laugh from under the hood, turning to see him poke his head out from the side.

“Yeah, you’re so Americanized that you go out of your way to find Korean restaurants instead of going to one of the drive-in’s,” Hakyeon tossed a wrench back into his tool box and reached for a rag. Wonsik rolled his eyes and turned around again, getting comfy on the couch with a magazine.

“You’d go out of your way, too, if you knew what was in the food at drive-in’s,” He shouted back at Hakyeon, flipping the pages absentmindedly. He heard a loud thud followed by a loud curse; he laughed at Hakyeon, who came over with a dark look and holding his head.

“How many times have you hit your head on the hood?” Wonsik taunted him, leaning over the back of the couch to get to the mini fridge and grabbed a couple sodas for them, handing one to Hakyeon. He took it from Wonsik with a nod of thanks and pressed the cool glass bottle against his forehead, sighing in relief.

“I lost count after ten,” Hakyeon grumbled, opening the bottle and taking a swig before pressing it against his head again. Wonsik shook his head and laughed lightly, cracking open his own bottle before settling into the couch again. The two sat in relative silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company after not having time to hang out for so long. They spoke quietly here and there but never really stuck to conversation, always going back to just sitting in silence.

That is, until Hakyeon’s phone started ringing and both jumped from the sudden noise. Hakyeon jumped over the back of the couch and stumbled over his feet to get to his work bench. Wonsik was silently laughing behind him as he answered his phone, rubbing his chest to calm his racing heart.

“Hello?” He greeted, turning to glare at Wonsik. “Oh, hey, Han, what’s up?” He went to sit next to Wonsik again, tucking his feet under him. He glanced over at Wonsik before responding, “Yeah, he arrived this morning,” Wonsik raised an eyebrow at Hakyeon before draining the last of his soda. “When should he go over?” Hakyeon nudged Wonsik’s thigh and motioned for him to go work on the car.

He rolled his eyes and heaved himself off the couch, shuffling his way towards the car, snatching a monkey wrench from the tool box as he went. As he worked, he blocked out most of Hakyeon’s conversation, only picking out the bits that involved him - apparently, this Han person that he was talking to was suppose to be his cousin and that Wonsik was gonna stay with him for the duration of the job. He stopped paying attention to Hakyeon and focused on the car, tuning it up a bit so it’d run smooth for his next race.

Moving around to open the passenger door, he checked the NOS tank and the gauges. Noticing that it was a little on the empty side, he went to get a new tank from one of the heavy cabinets. Busining himself with changing the tank, he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind him and hit his head on the door frame when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Cursing in several different languages, Wonsik stood up straight with a grimace on his face and rubbing his head - Fate was obviously not kind to him today. Hearing a chuckle behind him, he knew it was Hakyeon - he had this distinctive laugh that you could pick out from a crowd; it kinda went high-pitched at the end, like a childish giggle, and he’d squeak a bit. So, Wonsik quickly thought of a retaliation before smirking, spinning around and jabbing two fingers into Hakyeon’s side.

“Ah, you fucking bitch, what the fuck,” Hakyeon squawked, backing away from Wonsik quickly while holding his side. Wonsik was practically on the floor, holding his gut as he laughed hysterically. Hakyeon stalked over and kicked him brutally on the shin, limping back to the couch satisfied when he heard Wonsik cry out in pain.

“Asshole,” Wonsik groaned through clenched teeth, holding his breath as he held his newly bruised leg.

“What was that, you little bitch?!” Hakyeon bellowed, his voice bouncing off the garage walls, making it more amplified and Wonsik groaned again, his head almost pounding with a headache.

“Shut the fuck up!” Wonsik roared back, sighing in relief as he pressed his forehead against the cool concrete. Hakyeon picked up an old, grease-stained pillow from the couch and hurled it at Wonsik, snickering quietly to himself when it smacked him square in the back. Wonsik lifted his head off the floor to glare vehemently at Hakyeon, snatching the pillow and shoving it under his head.

Hakyeon stared at him for a while, feeling his resolve crumble the longer he looked at Wonsik laying on the concrete floor. Sighing, he stood up and went over to the desk he kept in the corner, opening one of the drawers; rooting through the junk, he found a bottle of Tylenol extra strength. Grabbing a water bottle as well, he walked over to Wonsik and kneeled down, poking his nose gently to get him to sit up.

“Here, this should help with the headache,” He murmured, setting the two bottles on the ground in front of him. Wonsik looked up at Hakyeon’s face and smiled softly, nodding his head slowly in thanks, taking the medicine quickly before rubbing his eyes.

“Thank you, brother,” He grumbled, still rubbing his face. He felt Hakyeon pat his knee before his footsteps went back to the car. He could hear Hakyeon finishing up what he had started with the NOS tank and he sighed, slowly getting to his feet. He leaned on the open passenger door and watched Hakyeon work - he always had a smooth method when it came to working on cars. Wonsik wasn’t sure how that method worked on the ladies, though; however, he was sure it worked pretty well considered how Hakyeon spent his night.

“So, who was the lucky lady?” Wonsik asked, playfully harassing him a bit. Hakyeon looked over his shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Who said there’s was one lady?” Hakyeon smirked, turning back around to focus on the car but he knew that there was an incredulous look on his face and he chortled quietly. “Besides, who said it was a female?” He added, just to rib into Wonsik a bit. He heard a choking noise behind him and he turned to see Wonsik staring at him wide-eyed with his hand covering his mouth. The sight made Hakyeon bust out laughing, almost knocking his head on the car frame.

“Dude, your face. Priceless, holy shit,” Hakyeon gasped, clutching his stomach as tears gathered in his eyes from laughing. “I’m not into dick, man, thought you’d pick that up after all these years,” He got up and went to get a water bottle from the mini fridge.

“That’s not what Taekwoon told me,” Wonsik called after him, making Hakyeon spit out a mouthful of water. He spun around and pointed a finger at Wonsik, who was smirking at him.

‘That was one time in college and we were both piss drunk!” He tried to defend himself but the light blush that was spreading on his cheeks gave him away. Wonsik grinned widely at him but had to duck at the last minute when Hakyeon threw his water bottle at him.

“Just go! You’re suppose to leave in half an hour anyway, get a head start and go bug them, fucking Christ,” Hakyeon grumbled, leaving the garage. Wonsik scrambled behind him, his boot almost getting caught on a stool.

“Wait, I don’t have a phone,” Hakyeon turned around and grabbed Wonsik’s hand, causing him to cease everything and stare at him. Hakyeon pulled out a phone from his back pocket and slapped it into Wonsik’s hand, giving him a firm look that said ‘Break this before the job’s done and I’ll break your nose’ before letting go of his hand. He nodded towards Wonsik’s bike and gave him a salute, turning back to the house.

Wonsik rolled his eyes but went to his bike, calling out a “See ya later!” over his shoulder and received a “Later asshat!” before Hakyeon slammed the door. Wonsik shook his head and mounted his bike, looking at the phone that Hakyeon gave him; he shrugged and jammed the SD card in it, bringing up the directions he needed to get to the place. After he memorized the first twenty miles, he strapped his helmet on and took off, not noticing that Hakyeon was watching him from the kitchen window.

Hakyeon shook his head and whispered, “Stupid,” to himself and went back to bed, last night still taking it’s toll on his head. Later on, he’d notice that his pillows had smeared make-up and smelled of cherry blossoms.


	3. Annoyance

The morning sun was already hot and blaring, making the air scorching in the early hours, hawks and vultures squawking as they circled the air for breakfast. The highway was empty and the flat land of sand was undisturbed, except for the lone body laying in the dirt. Wonsik groaned, rolling onto his side to dislodge the rocks embedded in his back, his leather jacket sticking to his face as the sun beat down on him.

Squinting his eyes, he brought his arm up and checked his watch, noting that it was already quarter past seven and it already felt like it was 80 degrees out. Groaning again, Wonsik rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up slowly, wincing as he stretched and picked the rocks out of his skin; he was definitely going to have the tiny indents for a while. Standing up, he took his shirt off and used it to wipe off the dirt that clung to him, muscles flexing in his back and arms, his tattoos moving with them.

The Arizona weather was not forgiving to Wonsik as he tried to clean himself up from his night on the ground, his skin already glistening with sweat as he rummaged for a fresh shirt in his duffel. If Hakyeon might’ve mentioned that this job was gonna be in California, he might’ve packed lighter clothes; instead he has jeans and a few sweaters with little t-shirts. He sighed, finding a plain black t-shirt and slipped it on, the material already clinging to his back, making him shift uncomfortably.

He prefered wearing sleeveless shirts because it showed off his tattoos wonderfully that way but he understood that if he wanted to do the job, he couldn’t have his tattoos showing. Though, wearing a normal t-shirt doesn’t really do much either, since his tattoos practically cover both his arms, from his shoulder blades all the way down to his forearms. All of his favorite things made into two sleeves, something he always wanted and will forever be proud of, no matter how many people judged him for having them. Wonsik had a few other tattoos but those were easier to hide, as they were on his back and hips; had a few facial piercings as well but he had to get rid of them when his opponents thought it was a good idea to rip his eyebrow piercing out. 

Wonsik unconsciously touched his eyebrow and shuddered, the phantom feeling of it being ripped out still fresh in his mind after two years. He didn’t wear earrings much - or at all, really - he didn’t want a repeat of the pain he experienced before. Checking the time again, he figured he’d get back on the road before he lost daylight; he still had another hundred or so miles to go before he reached Los Angeles. He checked his wallet before he mounted his bike and he sighed heavily, hoping he’d reach his “cousin’s” house before night fell because he can’t afford a hotel room for the night and he was sure the cops wouldn’t let him sleep on the sidewalk if he hit the city before then.

Shaking his head, he tugged his helmet on and mounted his bike, turning the engine over before taking off. It didn’t take him long to reach the city limit; fresh air getting muggy and thick, silence with his bike being the only noise turned to cars honking and semi-trucks roaring. Wonsik sighed, turning onto an off-ramp, heading into the outskirts of the city.

Pulling off the highway onto a dirt shoulder, he checked his phone for the rest of the directions and sighed in relief when he saw he only had about five more miles to go; the sun was setting and he desperately needed a shower. Getting situated on his bike again, he was about to start it up when he heard squealing tires before a flew past him, the driver's side mirror catching on his handlebars and pulled his bike from him.

He had a split second to dive onto the gravel before he got caught under the car like his bike had - which he gazed at in despair, taking in how mangled it looked being crushed under the vehicle. Two people climbed out of the car, bickering like an old married couple and Wonsik scoffed at them, choosing to continue his way on foot since he didn't have that far to go - he walked further before in the Army, five miles wouldn't hurt him - collecting himself and his things, brushing the dust off his pants as he walked.

When he pasted the still bickering couple, one of them - the male - shouted out to him, "Hey! Wait a minute," jogging up to catch up with Wonsik, stopping in front of him with a hand raised to push on his chest. Wonsik raised an eyebrow and pushed his hand off, standing to his full height - a good foot and a half above the other man - and crossed his arms, staring at the man with hard eyes; the man faltered a bit, eyes taking Wonsik's tall form before swallowing, squaring his shoulders and lifted his chin, gathering up whatever courage he had left.

When he didn't say anything, Wonsik resisted the urge to smack his face, choosing instead to clear his throat as politely as he could to someone who crushed his bike. He wanted nothing more then to continue on his way and come back later to see if could save his bike but no, this guy was holding him up and the sun was setting behind him, the last rays of it's warmth seeped through his leather jacket. 

"Listen, I'm incredibility sorry about what happened with your motorcycle and for almost killing you," A sheepish grin and a nervous neck rub followed, making Wonsik narrow his eyes further - he didn't have time for this; he waved away the guy's apology, mumbling about how it wasn't that big of a deal, and stepped around him, taking big strides to get away from them as soon as possible. Hearing gravel crunch behind him, Wonsik dropped his head back and spun around, growling out, "Leave it," before continuing on his way; he was already late as it was and, to be frank, he really couldn't dwell on the lost of his bike - he'd just have to find a car later and work on getting a new bike after all this was over.

The sun had set long before he reached his location, the neighborhood was quiet - save for the occasional dog bark and police sirens - some houses were dark and silent while others were brightly light and noisy. Wonsik pulled his phone out to check the directions and the time - quarter after 8pm - when Hakyeon's name popped up on his screen; he hesitated a bit before answering, already knowing the lecture that Hakyeon was gonna give him for being this late.

"Where the hell are you?" Bingo. Wonsik sighed, dropping his head as he started walking again.

"I got into an accident, I'm almost there," He explained, eyes scanning the house numbers, sighing in defeat when he didn't find it - he figured he'd have to walk another block or two.

"What do you mean "accident"?! What the hell happened?" Hakyeon's shrill voice pierced through his brain, making him wince away from his phone, his fasted-pace walking slowed to a leisure stroll now that he was in the general area.

"Bike got hit by a car while I was checking the directions, had to walk the rest of the way. Honestly, it's fine, not that big of deal, I can just jack a car later if I need one," Wonsik could practically hear Hakyeon bash his face against a wall.

"You are such an idiot, I don't even know how you survived this long with this lifestyle," Hakyeon's groan could be heard from Asia, Wonsik was sure his deceased dog could hear him - didn't stop Wonsik's wide grin from forming, though.

"Luck of the Sheep, my dear brother," Again, Wonsik could basically hear Hakyeon's eyeroll.

"Whatever, asshat, just - text me when you get to Han's, okay?" It was Wonsik's turn to roll his eyes; trust Hakyeon to be a worry wart.

"Yes, Mom," He laughed when Hakyeon let out a loud scoff, followed by a dial-tone. Pocketing his phone, he had a grin on his face the rest of the way to Han's. Said person's house was dimly lit and, judging from the shadows moving behind the curtains, seemed to have some company over; just want Wonsik needed, an audience while he made his "grand entrance". Shaking his head, Wonsik gave a tiny sigh to himself before trekking up the porch steps, way more than ready to get this job over with.


	4. Revelation

Wonsik wasn't sure what he was expecting when the door opened, maybe a slightly older male Asian, like Hakyeon said would be at this house - he wasn't expecting to have a half-naked lady shoved in his face with a wad of bills in her hand. She was obviously drunk, with the way she was slightly swaying and her death grip on the door was any indication; Wonsik had to bite his cheek to keep from outright laughing - this felt too much like a bad comedy movie for him to take seriously, especially when the lady loudly claimed that he wasn't the pizza delivery boy.

He was about to apologize for disturbing her night and leave, assuming he got the wrong house - which he didn't think was likely, Hakyeon wouldn't give him the wrong coordinations just to mess with him when it involves jobs like this. He wouldn't put it past Hakyeon to do something like that, though, and pulled his phone out to ask for the right address when he heard his name being called from behind him. Turning slightly, he snickered to himself when Han - he assumed it was Han, since he looked like how Hakyeon described him - stepped around the lady, half naked himself, to stand on the small stoop. 

"Han?" Wonsik asked, an eyebrow going up with his question; the other male just smirked in retaliation and made a gesture with his arm to go inside, guiding the lady inside as well when she almost fell over. Wonsik sighed and followed them, closing the door behind him while Han took the lady to the bedroom - hopefully to put her to bed, Wonsik didn't want to be here if and when they wanted to go for another round. 

He set his bag on the floor, next to the door, before venturing into the house, eyes scanning the living room and it's couple occupants on the couch; he checked to make sure they were sleeping before slinking off to the kitchen, hoping Han had a water bottle or two in the fridge. Wonsik sighed when he was faced with an practically empty fridge - a few beer bottles and what looked like a bowl of leftover rice; he had a feeling that Han didn't spend much time at home, only residing back in the tiny abode at night. 

Grumbling to himself, he snagged one of the beers and leaned against the counter, sipping it slowly as he waited for Han to come back, if he came back that is. Soft snores were coming from the living room, prompting Wonsik to wander over to the door frame and peek at the occupants on the couch; two teenagers passed out with pizza boxes and soda cans littered around them with the tv flashing some comedy - typical Friday night, Wonsik figured.

He snorted and went back to the kitchen, not wanting to be caught staring at minors - even though he was sure that Han wouldn't give two shits, he still didn't want the possibility of being thrown in jail for supposed leering; that thing back in Georgia was enough to teach him a lesson for fifty lifetimes. He found Han sitting on the counter with the bowl of rice and a beer bottle; Wonsik rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter next to him, drinking in silence while Han ate.

"Why do you have teenagers passed out on your couch?" He asked, curiousity getting to him - at least he waited a bit before blurting it out, he counted that as a plus. Han snorted and washed some of his rice down with a swig of his beer.

"It's just a place for them to sleep, when they don't want to be home," He took another bite and chewed slowly, eyeing Wonsik thoughtfully before swallowing. "The boy, Jeongguk, crashes here almost every night - he doesn't like sleeping at home - and the girl, Jeanina, is his friend, sleeps here when she can to keep him company." Wonsik smiled at Han, finishing off his beer before backing away from the counter and stretching.

"You're a good guy, Han, for letting them stay here," Han smiled a bit and lifted his beer in a salute. Wonsik looked over his shoulder at the living room, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to place where he heard the name Jeongguk before. Surely, it couldn't be that Jeongguk, right? But how many Jeongguk's were there in Los Angeles? He looked back over at Han, eyebrows still furrowed with his arms crossed now; he motioned with his head towards the living room, moving close to Han again to talk quietly.

"Is the boy, Jeongguk?" Wonsik didn't even know how to ask about something like this but Han made it easy for him, sighing and dropping his head in defeat.

"Jeon Jeongguk, youngest member of the Jung clan," Definitely not what Wonsik was expecting but given what he's heard about the Jung clan, he didn't blame the boy for wanting to get away for a bit. Nonetheless, Han had an enemy gang member sleeping on his couch, sixteen year old boy or not.

"Are you insane? They will kill you if they find out he's been coming over here practically every night," He hissed, looking back towards the living room. Han sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand.

"You don't think I'm aware of the risks I'm taking just knowing him, let alone letting him sleep here?" Han bit back, a scowl twisting his lips. "Look, he's been staying here since he was fourteen, he's careful and they don't know and if they do, they don't give two shits." Wonsik scoffed.

"Yeah, they don't give two shits about their prodigy and "heir" to the head of the clan. I'm surprised they let him have friends..." Wonsik trailed off when he saw that Han's eyebrow twitched - he didn't know him that well but he did know the tell-tale signs of body language when someone's hiding something.

"They don't let him have friends, do they?" He asked quietly, looking back at the living room again. He felt bad for the kid, sure, but part of Wonsik's brain kept reminding him who the boy was.

"No," Han sighed. "He met Jeanina when I took him to the races one night. She was tuning one of the cars and he took an interest. They hit it off and hang out on race nights; they talk cars and just goof off." Wonsik raised an eyebrow.

"They're not...?" He made a gesture with his hand before scrunching up his face; Han just snorted at him with a look that told him that he was being stupid.

"Nah, man, she's two years older then him, he's like her little brother. Besides, boy swings for the other team and I don't know about her, she might swing for both." Han's little eyebrow wiggle made Wonsik roll his eyes.

"How did you even met him? I would've thought they kept him under lock and key," Wonsik was trying to piece together how this came to be but it was late and he's not all there in the head when he's tired.

Han shrugged, "He was at the Toretto's store one night and, being the good guy that I am, let him crash on my couch for the night. It was him who decided to come to my doorstep almost every night from then on, asking if he could sleep here. Said he sleeps better, which I find weird because that couch is anything but comfortable." Wonsik sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face - he regretted even asking about the teenagers this late, should've just asked in the morning after he had his coffee.

"While this is all fine and dandy, can we continue this in the morning, after I'm more awake and can actually take in what you're telling me, it was a long drive getting here and I need a shower, if that's okay?" Wonsik pleaded, shoulders drooping when he remembered what happened with his bike - he'll have to go out either early in the morning or late at night tomorrow to get a car. 

"Oh yeah, dude, totally fine. Bathroom's down the hall, to the left - guest bedroom is next to it, you can camp there for your stay," Han patted his shoulder as he walked past, giving him an encouraging smile before retreating to his own room, calling over his shoulder. "See ya in the morning!" Wonsik just chuckled, picking up his discarded bag from the floor and with one last look at the teens on the sofa, ventured down the hallway to the guest room, shaking his head. 

The room wasn't much, a bed and a nightstand, but it was enough for Wonsik, who flung his bag onto the bed and rummaged through it to find a plain shirt and shorts. He shuffled his way to the bathroom and took a quick shower, the bed calling to him the longer he was in there; he didn't even bother drying his hair, just ran it through with a towel a couple times and dragged himself back to the bedroom, flopping down face first with a grunt. He was out and sleeping soundly in a couple minutes, soft snores filling the room.


	5. Running

After the week that Wonsik had, the last thing he expected was to wake up with a glock aimed at his face; looking past the gun, he saw that it was the boy, the one that could potentially kill. He didn’t look like he wanted to harm Wonsik, looked more confused and curious, going on physical instinct with a kid’s curiousness. Still being cautious, he slowly sat up in bed, keeping his hands visible for the boy - even though he had lowered the gun from his face, he was still armed and now aimed at his crotch. The kid cocked his head to the side, like a confused puppy, and furrowed his eyebrows, staring at Wonsik with a fierce intensity he didn’t know that kids his age had - then again, he’s not like kids his age.

“Who are you?” The kid - Jeongguk, Wonsik thought stubbornly - asked, voice cracking a bit. Wonsik relaxed his shoulders a bit, making it seem like he had taken his guard down, however, he still watched the boy like a hawk.

“Wonsik, you?” He croaked, throat dry and raw with his voice still thick with sleep - he had terrible cotton mouth and desperately wanted to down six gallons of water. The kid stared at him for a bit longer before shrugging with a small nod, slipping it in his waistband, muttering as he fixed his shirt, “Jeongguk. C’mon, breakfast is almost done.” Wonsik raised an eyebrow, watching as the kid walked over to the door and leaned against the frame, waiting for him to follow him; Wonsik sighed and swung his legs off the bed, stretching a bit before hauling himself up, shuffling over to the kid - who only came up to his shoulder, which he took in amused pride. 

Jeongguk saw his face and snorted, “Just because I’m not as tall as you, don’t think this is my height forever - remember, I’m only sixteen, you’re - what? - twenty-something? You’re done growing,” The cheeky little shithead had the nerve to smirk at Wonsik before sauntering down the hallway, cackling. Wonsik rolled his eyes, heaving a heavy sigh before following the kid to the kitchen, the chick Han was with last night was standing in front of the stove - fully clothed, thankfully - with Han himself at the table already, reading the newspaper.

Wonsik sat down across from Han and waited a total of three seconds before kicking him in the shin, grinning in satisfaction as he jumped; Han just glared at him and threw his used napkin at Wonsik. Noticing the mug next to Han, Wonsik looked around the kitchen for the coffee pot, grinning in victory when he found it next to the fridge - he had to ask Han where the mugs were first before he got up, he didn’t want to spend precious coffee drinking moments looking for a mug. Getting his coffee - straight black, wasn’t in the mood for sweet anything - he went back to the table and almost moaned at the first sip; he stuck his tongue out at Han when he started snickering at him.

“So, what’s this job that you needed Hakyeon to send me for?” Wonsik asked casually, too focused on his coffee to remember that the kid was still there and quite possibly have no idea about this - even with being in a family like his. So when he got a sharp kick to the shin, he just thought it was Han retaliating for earlier and glared at him for making Wonsik spill his precious coffee. Noticing the look that Han was sending him, he backpedaled and looked around him, taking note that the two teens were still there and very much listening to them; Wonsik bit his lips and sunk down in his chair, keeping his mug at his lips to avoid spilling anything else.

“What job?” a small voice piped up, making Wonsik groan into his mug and sank further in his chair - he didn’t need to look up to know who asked, having heard the same voice just moments before. Another kick to the shin and an annoyed sigh told him he already fucked up and he hasn’t even been on the job yet; if Hakyeon got wind of this - which he always does, the damn psychic, he’ll call Wonsik later to bitch in his ear for a good three hours. 

“He needs to work on my car, to repay me for the fall I took for a few months ago. I asked Hakyeon to send him here because, apparently, he forgot about it,” Wonsik nodded eagerly, brown hair flopping in his face, thankful how quickly Han came up with that and it seemed to satisify their curiousity. Han’s lady friend came over and placed a plate in front of the teens, kissing both their heads before going back to the stove; Wonsik figured she was either Han’s girlfriend or a frequent booty call - nonetheless, he was thankful for her when she set a plate in front of him as well, a sweet smile blooming on her face when he thanked her quietly. His eyes widened a bit when he took in what was on his plate - bacon, eggs, hash browns, two pieces of toast, sausage, and something that Wonsik didn’t recongize, something white, lumpy, and kinda watery. He nudged Han and pointed at it with his fork when he got his attention - Han just snickered and said, “Cottage cheese,” - causing Wonsik to huff and stare at the white lumpy stuff because he had no idea what cottage cheese was and to be frank, he was thankful he didn’t because from what he sees on his plate, it’s got to be disgusting. 

He just curled his lip and ate everything but the “cottage cheese” - which Han had a good laugh at, smirking when Wonsik glared at him. Jeongguk and his friend - Jeanina - left shortly after breakfast, saying they’re going to the store for a bit before Jeongguk had to sneak back home and told Han that he’d be back the night of the races. Once they were gone, Han crossed his arms and leaned on the table, his once friendly face shifting to a more serious and business-like one, even his lady friend dropped the lovely smile she was supporting all morning. Wonsik braced himself - for what, he wasn’t sure but he could tell from their faces that it wasn’t going to be pleasant or easy; he took a sip from his refilled mug and nodded at Han for him to go ahead. 

“I need you to help me jack some cars,” Wonsik raised an eyebrow, staring at Han before scrunching up his face, deciding that while Han was street smart in some areas, he wasn’t really all that bright.

“That’s it?” He asked, disbelief in his voice. Han made a small noise, tight face melting into one of surprised confusion.

“What do you mean “that’s it”? This is serious, Wonsik,” Han scolded him, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair – Wonsik snorted; jacking cars for Wonsik was amateur work and could’ve done it last night if he wasn’t so tired.

“Serious for me are the big heists, not this baby jacking cars bullshit, if all you wanted me for was to jack cars, I could’ve done it last night with a good pot of coffee to keep me going. I don’t need a before plan to jack cars, it’s not that serious to make a big thing out of it, you could’ve found anyone out here to jack a few cars for you, you didn’t need to ask Hakyeon to send me down here from Montana.” Han’s face hardened the more that Wonsik talked - which he didn’t realize it till he was done and looked up to see Han’s hands gripping the table until his knuckles were white.

“Wonsik, you don’t understand, we’re getting the cars from Jeongguk’s family – the ones that are heavily armored and loaded with weapons. If we get those into our possession, we can pull even better heists,” Han explained in a heated whisper, jabbing the table with his finger for emphasis. Wonsik furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at Han for a few seconds before shaking his head, pushing his empty mug to the side and stood up, walking over to the sink and leaned against it.

“You’re insane for thinking an idea like that wouldn’t get you killed before even touching the cars – besides, it’s the kid’s family, the kid who’s been staying at your place almost every night for who knows how long! If they didn’t kill you for trying to steal from them, they’d kill you for the fact that you’ve been harboring their prodigy here. Add on to the fact it could get him killed and me, too, for that matter.” Wonsik ranted, throwing his arms about as he got more heated while Han’s face became more red and pinched. 

“You don’t know anything,” Han hissed, standing up from the table as well; his lady friend just sat there, quietly watching them while worrying her lip. 

Wonsik snorted in disbelief, “I don’t know anything? It’s you who doesn’t know that the Jung Clan is part of the Yakuza,” He watched as Han’s face dropped and paled, sitting down at the table again, hands gripping the edge of it like before but more out of a way for support and not refraining himself from punching Wonsik. 

“Honestly, how did you not know that? You’ve lived here for, how long, six years? Way longer than I have, that’s for sure,” He shook his head, fed up with everything and wished he didn’t listen to Hakyeon this one time; he pushed off from the sink and went towards the guest room, deciding to leave altogether and maybe he’ll come back when Han has a decent job for him.

“How do you know about the Yakuza?” Han’s quiet question isn’t what made Wonsik tense up, the accusing tone he had did – Wonsik had to take a few seconds to calm down and keep the murderous rage from showing on his face. He really didn’t want to tell the story about how and why he knew about the Yakuza, especially during the early hours of the AM, yet, he knew that Han was itchy to know new information and if Wonsik could provide the kind of knowledge about the Yakuza, he wouldn’t stop until he had it. He looked over his shoulder at Han and sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, turning around and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he scrutinized Han. 

“What do you know about the Yakuza?” Wonsik asked instead, watching Han closely for anything that might confirm what Wonsik was assuming but either Han knew and was trying to hide it or he really wasn’t involved with the Yakuza in any way.

“Not much, just that they’re a gang group originated in Japan,” Han replied, running a hand through his hair with a dejected sigh. Wonsik nodded, mentally sighing in relief that Han was clueless and chose to leave him like that – he didn’t need to know about them nor did he need to know about how Wonsik knew them.

“Good, that’s all you need to know,” He replied, turning tail and practically running to his room to grab his shit before Han could question him any further because Wonsik knows he will – they always do when any mention of them is brought up, which isn’t often but it happens a lot more then Wonsik would like.

“Wait!” He heard Han shout from the kitchen, the scraping of a chair being pushed back hastily echoed throughout the house; he didn’t waste any time, throwing whatever clothing he took out back into his bag and grabbed it, brushing past Han in the doorway and breezed past Han’s girlfriend on his way to the front door, pausing only for a second to grab his shoes – he’d shove them on when he got further down the road.

He kept walking, ignoring Han’s calls for him to come back before he couldn’t hear them anymore, until he got to a little building with a sign that read “Toretto’s Market & Cars”; deciding to stop there for a bit and think up a plan on what he was going to do, he sighed and headed in, thankful to be out of the direct sunlight and for potential food.


End file.
